


Perfectly indecent

by DracoIgnis



Series: Kiss me [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragonstone, F/M, Jonerys, Kissing, Making Out, Teasing, kiss, on a table, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: To Daenerys, meetings were a boring necessity. Until Jon decided to spice them up. A Jonerys flashfic with original artwork.





	Perfectly indecent

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a kiss prompt request on Tumblr, prompt being: "Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths.". Art by DragonandDirewolf. Hope you will enjoy!

..

Meetings were normally a boring necessity - they ended when Daenerys had enough guidance to form an educated opinion on a matter, and then everyone would go on their merry way.

So how this meeting had ended with her sprawled across the table, maps pushed aside, Jon on top of her, his fingers entangled in her hair, his lips on hers? Daenerys wasn’t sure, but she knew one thing for certain - _she wanted it to happen more often._

When Jon broke the kiss, it was only to get a better hold of her legs. Daenerys was gasping in air, first as she was out of breath, then in surprise as he dragged her closer to the edge and pushed himself between her legs. Her dress started riding up in the process, and she felt herself flush as she grabbed around the fabric and pushed it downwards.

“You’re making me indecent,” she breathed.

Jon had a smirk on his lips as he leaned in over her. He kissed her brow, her nose, her lips. His tongue worked between them, demanded access, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as she granted it. If he answered her, the reply was lost between their tongues. All she could hear was fabric shuffling across the stony tabletop, and all she could feel was her heartbeat going quicker and quicker and quicker.

_If he keeps this up_, she thought, her hands clinging onto his back, digging into the leather on his shirt, _my heart will break my ribs._ It almost hurt how quick it was going. It was only when her hands slipped around his shoulders to his chest that she felt his pounding just as hard.

His hands were on her hips. Then, they rode upwards.

“Jon,” she whispered, but she felt his name swallowed between their lips. She pressed at his chest, forcing him back up a little. “Jon,” she repeated, his lips an inch from hers. She glanced up at him, his face flustered, his hair ruffled. Through the grand window openings behind them, the sun shone in, lighting up his dark eyes. They seemed so _lustful_, she thought. The way he looked at her, impatiently waiting for her to continue. It was like he was _eating her up_.

Her fingertips shivered as she framed his face. _By the Gods, any and all of them, how I want him._

“Jon,” she said, a third time, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked with such perfect innocence that were his fingers not resting by her thighs, she could have believed him naive.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play games with me.”

“I play no games. I asked if you wanted me to stop.”

“And I asked, _what’s gotten into you._”

He seemed to shrug. “You, I suppose,” he replied but, realising it wasn’t enough of an explanation, he continued: “The way you looked at me during the meeting.”

“I thought I did not look at you at all,” Daenerys spoke surprised.

This time Jon was the one to narrow his eyes. “_Exactly_.”

Daenerys felt her cheeks go warm. She still had Jon’s face cupped between her hands, and she slowly started stroking his beard, feeling the coarse hair on his upper lip. _He noticed_, she thought with a certain guilt. It was true - she had avoided his gaze today. Not out of animosity, rather the opposite. She was afraid to look at him in case others would see what she felt - _lust_.

It was not proper, she knew this. She was not afraid of her own desires, but she was aware that it was not fitting for a queen to lust for her adviser. After all, that’s why she had invited him to attend - to _advice_ her, not _fuck_ her.

Yet, here we are, she thought, snapping back to reality as Jon’s fingers brushed further up her dress.

“I meant no harm,” she gasped.

Jon leaned down, their lips now half an inch apart. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I only meant to remain-”

“Do you want me to stop?” Lips touching. His breath in her mouth. His tongue on her teeth.

“-_proper_.”

“Do you want me to stop?” The question was but a muffle to her lips. He had her, tongue in her mouth, searching behind her teeth, searching her tongue, tasting her. She tasted him too - mead and salt beef, like a commoner, but also ice and smoke and power._ Like a king._

“No,” she replied, her answer but another taste to him. “_Don’t stop_.”

First, he had her down, pinned to the table, hands on her waist, lips close. Then, he had her up - before she knew of it, he dragged her off the table, arms wrapped around her shoulders and buttocks, as he pulled her close. They were moving, she realised. Toward the door.

“My lord, where are you taking me?” she asked, partly because she wanted to know, partly because she was tingling with excitement.

Jon smiled: “You made some excellent points in the meeting. Let’s discuss further - in your chambers, perhaps?”

_Perfectly indecent, _she thought. _I think I will come to enjoy meetings._


End file.
